In Walking, David Breton writes «All landscape is threatened because it is for our contemporary societies a space to conquer and to yield a profit (...)» When I looked at the region of the Beauce (south-west of Paris), I could only think of these landscapes of Don MacCullin haunted by the war. The agricultural tanks conquered the landscapes. I wanted to photograph Man through the result of his actions. I searched in my photographies the brutality of these landscapes thirsting for hope. I am appalled.
I have walked in this desert. I saw these houses coming out of a dying ground like mushrooms agglomerated to each other. People are partitioned, huddled together out of fear of this artificial nothingness. They locked the game in the middle of some trees. Thirty years ago, these trees did not exist. One hundred years ago, there were everywhere. Cars cross the region. We do not stop here! At each step, my feet touched a bruised floor. These lands seemed to have the desire to swallow me up. They who are supposed to feed so many people, were starving.